


Bricking It

by Lycanthrope



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 03:57:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9054427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lycanthrope/pseuds/Lycanthrope
Summary: Ross takes building his Gingerbread Houses very seriously





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [miilkteeth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/miilkteeth/gifts).



> May be unedited. but deadlines. Hopes you like it Iz

Ginger and sugar was a heavy sent in the air when Smith opened the door and stepped into the apartment. It made him pause at the door and consider turning around and finding something else to do for the evening. It was a physical effort for him to push himself inside and close the door slowly behind him. Keeping quiet he skirted the walls, heading for the relative safety of the kitchen. 

“Smith.” He heard before he had even slipped half way through the door. “Thank God you’re here.” Turning he came face to face with Trott. She shorter boy clapping his hands together in a form of praise. Covered in thick red oven gloves, white stars or possibly snowflakes printed into the backs. “Can you take these in?” Trott continues turning to offer a wide baking tray, square pieces of gingerbread loosely sliding across the parchment. “Please?” 

“Oh hell no.” Smith said definitively, still keeping his voice down. “There is no way I’m going in there, when you’re baking gingerbread.” 

“Oh please.” Trott pleased. Moving the tray to be able to push the treats off and onto a cooling rack. “You don’t know what it’s been like. He’s a monster I tell you. A monster.” The melodramatic tone and shrill tone to his voice, was a stark contract to the calm hands, dextrously moving the freshly bakes biscuits, from one tray to another. 

“Right.” Smith said hopping up onto a stool. “But I didn’t see you helping me last year when he did this.” He smirks. “It’s your turn.” 

“But you’d burnt yours.” Trott whined with a high voice. “These are perfect Smith. Perfect.” 

“I somehow doubt that.” Smith said with narrowed eyes. Then frowns to look down at Trott’s torso. “What are you wearing?” 

“Do you like it?” Trott smile. His entire demeanour spinning on a dime as he steps back and shows off the green apron that put his head on the top of an elf’s body in the only way he really knew how. With air thrusts. Three in fact. Complete with sound effects. He finishes with his hips thrust upwards and outwards and his arms trailing down towards the floor. 

“I’m gonna take these in for you.” Smith said instead of answering his friend. The display disturbing on so many levels. He stands from his perch and begin to load the biscuits onto a nearby plate. 

Trott’s grin is slow to form as he snaps his body into a more comfortable pose. “That’s what I thought.” He commented, returning to the countertop to begin spooning out and shaping more of the mixture. 

Smith sighed, deeply. “Fine.” He grumbled shuffling through into the other room. 

The living room was silent. Not a creature dared stir, not even the geckos. Ross sat, perched on the edge of his chair. Hunched far over as he iced and placed each brick of gingerbread around the house he was building. “Hi Ross.” Smith said gently, kinda hoping the other man wouldn’t even notice him. 

“Bricks.” Ross snapped, looking up sharply with wide eyes. White icing glistening as it held his hair in a high point. “I need more bricks!” 

“Good I brought some then.” Smith said resting the plate down on the coffee table next to the construction. 

In response Ross reaches out to snatch up some of the –perfectly baked- gingerbread and gathers up a generous portion of icing onto the lollypop stick he was using as a trowel to spread it along two of the edges. Then carefully place it down, pushing and wiggling it to it set in place before enviously removing his fingers from around it. “Yes.” He whispers fondly to the construction and moves into the next part. 

Smith takes a seat opposite his friend to quietly watch him work. Tilting his head at the shear level of concentration streaked across Ross’s face.   
The house was magnificent. Less of a house and more of a mansion. Constructed so that the wings surrounded the courtyard on three sides. Ross painstakingly pulled at a slab of green icing for the grass surrounding the four teared waterfall in the centre. He had iced together snapped lengths of twiglet to give each arched window and doorway a railed balcony. And looking through the windows Smith could see that he had even sectioned out each floor into separate rooms. It was a wonder to behold. So Smith could just not let it be that easy. 

He reached out, pushing his finger against a section of wall along the ground floor, finding one that was loose enough for him to press in with his finger and then pull out without bringing the whole structure crashing down. It needed a tradesman’s entrance anyway. 

“What are you doing?” Ross then demanded his hands moving to either side of the building. Under the misguided illusion that he could save it should it give way. 

“Consuming.” Smith replied, his smirk confident but his head rattled to see what his friend would do, as he popped the section of wall into his mouth. “The true meaning of Christmas.”

“Bah. Humbug.” Ross dead panned in reply, pulling the plate of bricks across the table towards him and out of Smith’s reach.


End file.
